Healing Her Heart
by theywillneverknow
Summary: The final part to the trilogy 'Losing Lois Lane' and 'Calling Clark Kent' but can be read as a one-shot. Clois goodness - the reunion after Lois departs for Star City.


Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or anything associated with it.

Title: Healing Her Heart  
Author: Firstflier  
Characters: Lois Lane, Clark Kent, Jimmy Olsen and mention of Lana Lang  
Rating: PG-13 (one use of strong language)  
Timeline: Set sometime after 'Legion'.  
Spoilers (when applicable): Spoilers for Clana kisses.  
Short summary: The final part to the trilogy; the reunion. Could be read as a one-shot but it makes more sense as part of the trilogy.

Author's Note: I'm still not entirely happy with this last part so any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. =] Having said that; enjoy.

Healing Her Heart

It was five days after that fateful 'Christmas' dinner that Clark Kent found himself staring wistfully, once more, at the empty desk in front of him. He had assumed that one day she would just waltz in with no explanation of where she had been, what she had been doing or why she had been avoiding him. She would steal his coffee from right out of his hands and everything would return to the way it had been before. Or maybe that was just what he was hoping for. It did not happen. And so he sat, bored and bemused trying to figure out what the hell this thing was between him and Lois because, try as he might, he just couldn't shake the thought that their friendship had changed. Time just seemed to drag and he could not muster enough energy to care about anything other than his nightly duties and when Lois was coming home. She had remained resolutely in Star City and if Clark didn't feel a new sense of responsibility for the people in Metropolis he would have dragged her back, kicking and screaming. That didn't mean he couldn't try to tempt her back by other means though. In a bid to coax her back to Metropolis, Clark had even taken over the story she had been writing investigating the workings of the underground mob before Doomsday had appeared. He knew it had been her favourite story at that time; the one she was sure was going to win a Pulitzer for and yet, even leaving a voicemail saying that he was going to take it over whilst she was gone, he had not heard a thing. He had been sure that his 'theft' of her story would ruffle her feathers and, if not force her hand, at least get her to talk to him.

Nothing.

Not even an angry email or text message.

Hadn't he once been the first person she would call at the first sign of trouble? He knew for a fact that he was higher in her speed dial than Chloe and Oliver so why wasn't she talking to him now? He could only fathom a guess that she was deep undercover in Star City and could not risk calling him. But now he had come to a complete dead end with her story and he wished he could speak to her. Maybe Lois was letting him have the story, just to prove that he couldn't do it because she knew she was the better reporter. She knew she had those killer instincts needed to be a top reporter at the Daily Planet. And he was completely stumped with the story she had started. He had followed all the leads she had scribbled on her beloved Mickey Mouse shaped post-it notes, the secret ones she stashed at the back of her desk drawer when she thought she was onto something good, the same Mickey Mouse post-its that she would not admit to owning under torture but he knew they were her favourite and reserved for the really juicy stuff. The main reason the few leads he had managed to discern from her scrawled handwriting had all dried up was that, true to her word, Lois Lane never revealed her sources. And therein lay the problem; no one would talk to Clark about the mobsters. Only Lois Lane would get the anonymous exclusives and it was damn frustrating.

He began clicking his pen, the nib extending and retracting, starting slow and gaining momentum with rapid succession.

Click

In.

Click.

Out.

Click.

In.

Click

Out.

Click. In. Click. Out. ClickInClickOutClickInClickOut.

His thumb moved over and over again, a nervous habit he had picked up since working at the Daily Planet, mainly because it was the easiest way to annoy Lois into paying him some kind of attention. Along with his squeaky chair of course, which never failed to annoy.

Click. In.

It took him a full minute to associate the noise and action with something entirely different but when he did he almost fell out of his chair with the strength of his realisation. Lois would have taken a photographer with her and what photographer did Lois Lane always insist upon having by her side? The one and only Jimmy Olsen. With the eureka moment still spinning in his head, he quickly dialled Jimmy's number and waited, impatiently, for him to pick up on the other end. Jimmy had been confined to the apartment whilst he recovered slowly from his injuries, despite the fact that he was becoming increasingly bored and frustrated with the entire situation. Finally, a voice rang though the phone.

"'Lo, Jimmy speaking."

"Hey Jimmy, it's Clark."

"CK! Good to hear from you man. I am bored out of my brain over here." The relief of speaking to someone was evident in his voice. "So what's up?"

"I was just wondering...do you remember that story you and Lois were working on before the wedding?" There was not even a pause as the excitement in Jimmy's voice became audible.

"Yeah, course I do! Danny and the underground mob of Metropolis. It was Lois' 'Big Thing'." There was confusion in his voice as he continued. "She must've found something bigger and better in Star City though 'cause I haven't heard a word about the story since the wedding."

Like Clark needed reminding of the fact that she was still in Star City.

"Yeah, so I've taken over the story."

"Wow, Lois gave you her story?"

"Um..sort of." It wasn't really a lie.

"Seriously, are we still talking about the same girl? She just handed it over?"

"Er...not exactly." Clark grimaced as he could almost hear the cogs turning in Jimmy's head. There was silence on the line.

"You're stealing her story?!"

"Kind of?"

"You're stealing Lois Lane's Big Thing?" There was a sigh. "Do you have a death wish, CK?!"

"Err..."

"Well, you're a braver man than I am. What did you want my help for anyway? I hope you don't plan to drag me down with you."

"No, I was just wondering if you had any pictures I could _borrow _for the story. I've come to a complete dead end."

"Sorry, man. Lois confiscated them off me as soon as they were printed. She's got them stashed over at her apartment I think."

"Her apartment in Metropolis?"

"Does she own another apartment I don't know about?" Jimmy bit out sarcastically with a roll of the eyes but Clark couldn't help but think of her semi-permanent stay at Oliver's in Star City.

"Yeah...right. Well, she gave me a spare key when she first moved in so I guess I can just go over there and use that." Jimmy chuckled down the phone. "What?"

"Nothing, CK. Just...good luck. When Lois finds out about this she is gonna hand you your ass on a silver platter." Jimmy continued to laugh as Clark rolled his eyes good naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks Jimmy."

"No worries, man; it's your funeral."

"Just give me a nice send off, yeah? Lots of flowers. I'll let you know how it goes."

Clark hung up the phone and stared at the drawer in his desk with his keys in. He pulled on the handle and the wood slid towards him easily. On the top of a small stack of folders sat his keys and he cradled the cold metal in his hand as he plucked them from the drawer. One for the farm, one for the truck, the Snoopy key ring his Mum had got in Washington and Lois' apartment key sat snugly in his palm. Should he go over and let himself in to her place and root around for those photos? It felt inanely wrong to enter her home without her knowing but he was at a complete stand still with the story and, anyway, isn't it something Lois herself would do? 'Anything to get the story', right? And so his options were thus; he could either sit and stare at her empty desk all day sighing mournfully and watch the minute hand drag round the face of the clock or he could let himself into her apartment and do something useful with his time with the added bonus of being surrounded by her stuff, her scent, her very essence. His mind made up, he stood and pulled on his jacket.

Besides, didn't Chloe mention something about watering Lois' plants whilst she was out of town?

The air was crisp and cool as he walked briskly down the familiar streets that would lead him to Lois' new apartment. Although Lois had fallen in love with the place, it was far too close to Suicide Slums for Clark's liking and seven blocks was seven blocks too many for her to walk home after work on her own. He had sorely wished that she would move back to the farm where he could perhaps explore their newfound intimacy but it seemed destined not to be since she wouldn't even return his calls, let alone live with him. He was brought back to the present when he almost crashed into a young woman with a pram but sidestepped her at the last second. He slowed his pace slightly from the determined march he had adopted as he weaved in and out of the people cluttering the sidewalk and only hampering his speed. Seventeen minutes later he had arrived outside Lois' apartment, fiddling somewhat nervously with the keys to her block of flats.

Where had all that bravado from twenty minutes gone? Going into her apartment to take some photos that would help him steal her big story suddenly did not seem like the best way to win back her favour. And still there was some sickening curiosity stirring within him about what lay behind those doors. Sure, he'd helped her move in but that had been the limit of his stay. He had not been invited to help her unpack, only to unload the heavy stuff and loan his truck for the day to act as a removal van before being unceremoniously kicked out with Lois claiming she was 'a big girl' and could handle it herself. 'Besides,' she had added, 'you'll probably break something with those huge, man hands of yours.' He had refrained from biting out the retort that she was much more clumsy and graceless than he was and had simply rolled his eyes with a smile, feeling somewhat disappointed that he wasn't going to be spending his afternoon with her. Now was the perfect time to have a little surreptitious peep at what she had done with the place. Why did he feel so guilty about this? It wasn't like he was going to root around in her underwear drawer...the black bustier from one fateful Valentines Day sprung to the front of his mind and he forced down a blush. He was here now and he wasn't going to back down from this.

As Clark twisted the key in the lock he could hear the sound of a TV, it sounded like Lois' next door neighbours were watching 'Fraser' if he was any judge of the theme tune, in fact, the walls must be incredibly thin for him to hear it without using his powers, and he wondered with a reminiscent smile if they would be up for the 3 o'clock Whitesnake sing-a-long. The door opened and Clark was stunned with the sight that greeted him. The apartment was nice enough, with wood flooring in the short hallway melting into a plush carpet in the living room. The curtains were obviously new, a deep purple that matched a post-modern painting on the opposite wall. From what he could see out the window, it looked like a pretty decent view for the price Lois was paying. However, there were cardboard boxes littered everywhere, lying like fallen soldiers on a battlefield where the commanding officer had simply accepted defeat. There was a large table near the window where papers, files and films lay scattered haphazardly. He assumed that the photos would be sprinkled among those but his eyes were drawn to the couch; a soft, white loveseat with purple cushions. It was so feminine that it almost looked out of place in the apartment. But what really completed the whole picture was Lois Lane.

Sat on the couch with a tub of Rocky Road nestled between her thighs watching, as he had correctly guessed, re-runs of 'Fraser' with the TV turned up so loudly that she hadn't noticed him enter her apartment. Shock was not enough to describe the feelings that bombarded the confused Kryptonian. Clark's eyes narrowed and he slammed the door shut with just a little more force than necessary. He noticed her slight flinch as she whipped round to face him and inwardly applauded her ability to look unfazed by almost anything. A silver spoon fell from her mouth as she went slack jawed at the sight of the one person she had been avoiding standing in her doorway. Shock was evident on her face for the briefest of moments before her gaze returned to the TV and she threw her greeting over her shoulder.

"Hey, Clark."

This was their grand reunion? No overly emotional hug, no declarations infused with passion, nothing. He was not happy.

"What the hell, Lois?" He marched further into her apartment, flinging his keys down on her coffee table in a gesture that could not describe the myriad of emotions churning within him; anger, confusion, excitement, relief. She did not even spare him a glance. "You're supposed to be in Star City." She shrugged, barely moving her shoulder.

"Well I'm not."

"I can see that." He growled out through clenched teeth.

As she spooned another scoop of ice cream into her mouth, Clark saw red and yanked the spoon from her grasp before flicking the TV off with the remote on the coffee table. She looked at him like he had grown another head.

"What is your problem?!"

"_My_ problem?!"

She slid off the couch to her feet and Clark, even in his infuriated state, could not help but peruse her with his eyes, just like the day of the wedding when she had worn that burnt amber dress that had taken his breath away. She was in shorts today and her legs just seemed to go on forever. His mind suddenly conjured an image of the two of them entwined, her legs wrapped around his waist...he willingly shied away from the picture but knew it would be imprinted in his mind tonight. She was wearing a shirt that was quite obviously too big for her and...was it a man's shirt? Dare he wonder if it was his shirt?

"It's Ollie's."

His eyes flicked guiltily to her face and he realised she must have spotted his questioning stare, he marvelled at the way she was able to read him so well. The familiar stirrings of jealousy hummed through his veins, teasing, mocking, haunting him, as they had done for the past 4 months. Why was she wearing an ex-boyfriend's shirt and lying about her apartment eating ice cream? And since when did Ollie own plaid? He was about to call her bluff but she narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" She asked suspiciously.

"Err...Chloe...Chloe said your plants needed watering." He stumbled over the excuse and cursed the horrendous blush that he knew was spilling out from the collar of his shirt. She didn't believe him for one minute, and he knew it. He scratched the back of his neck with a nervous smile in her direction. Her face remained unmoved.

"Don't lie to me, Kent." He noticed the use of his last name and realised he was skating on very thin ice. His options were thus; he could stick with the original story and hope she didn't threaten to beat the truth out of him or he could just tell her the truth and watch her try to kick his ass for stealing her story. Suddenly his plan seemed incredibly flawed.

"Well..." He cleared his throat, "You remember that story...? The one with the mob..." Her eyebrow raised and he shifted his weight awkwardly, "YouknowyourBigstory? I'm taking it over." His eyes widened as he realised how authoritative, maybe even rude, he sounded and inwardly winced.

She laughed.

And he looked at her like she was crazy.

"Oh, this is too good." She fixed him with a steely gaze and he noticed that, despite the smile that was plastered on her face, her eyes remained cold. "You've broken into my apartment-" He interrupted with an incoherent splutter as he gestured to the keys on the table, "So you could _steal_ notes and pictures from me?!" He winced at her terminology but could not find the words to defend himself. Before he could even begin to formulate an argument, she had marched over to the table and was rifling carelessly through several pieces of paper and film canisters. Hurriedly, she obviously found what she was looking for, and stormed back over to the flustered male reporter. Thrusting her arms out she forced two files and a film canister into his arms and he struggled to balance the unexpected items in his hands.

"There. Now you've got what you came for." She sunk back onto the sofa and picked up the remote from the table. He stared at her in disbelief for almost a full minute before she became aggravated with the whole situation. She turned to him and snapped. "What? You've got a story to write. Chop chop."

Was she...was she _dismissing _him?! There was no way he was leaving it like this. Clark Kent may have been many things, but he was no coward so he dropped the files and canister to the floor with a reckless abandon as his eyes softened.

"Why have you been ignoring my calls?"

"Clark!" She admonished as she scrambled from her seat on the sofa to pick up the files and the canister that was slowly rolling towards her coffee table. She answered as she dumped them on the coffee table.

"Phone's broken."

He raised both his eyebrows and tilted his head, clearly displaying his disbelief. And before she could blink he pulled out his mobile and held down the 2 on his speed dial. Just as she realised what he was doing there was a merry jingle from the sofa where her phone lay jammed between two cushions. He hung up with an irritated click and she sat back down to rummage down the side of her couch where the phone was resting.

"Don't lie to me, Lane. How long have you been home?" He noticed that, suddenly, she would not look at him.

"About a week."

The math was easy in his head.

"What?! So where were you for the Christmas dinner we were meant to have at the farm? We all thought you still in Star City." Irritation once again pounded in his head. She rose once more from the couch, realising that he wasn't going to be leaving any time soon. She made her way through the living room to the kitchen hoping he would get the hint and just leave.

"So?"

He followed her through to the kitchen and, in any other situation, would have commented on what a lovely kitchen it was, with a breakfast bar in the middle of the tiled floor space. She leaned on the breakfast bar and he had to stop short to avoid crashing into her.

"What do you mean 'so'? We were all meant to be spending it together. Putting the past few months behind us and you were just sat here on your own?"

"Just drop it, Clark." In his anger he missed the clenching of her jaw.

"No, I won't just drop it! This is ridiculous. You were here the entire time?!" Inspiration tapped him on the shoulder and realisation was not far behind as his mind flipped into overdrive. "There never was a story in Star City was there?"

"I said to leave it." Her arms were crossed and she was gripping them so tightly that her fingernails were leaving crescent moon indents in her skin. Unaware of the pain she was inflicting upon herself, she turned away from him.

"No. Don't you get it?! This was meant to be special. You were meant to be there. It was meant to be Christmas."

She laughed mirthlessly as she whirled around and all but spat at him.

"Christmas? Christmas?! It's fucking March!" Ignoring the hurt that flashed quickly across his face she continued. "Do you want to know how I spent my Christmas?" He reached out to grab her wrist but she danced out of his reach, a wildness in her eyes that both thrilled and terrified him. "I spent it in a hospital beside my cousin-in-law as he fought for his life because the doctors thought it was time for him to come off the artificial breathing equipment. I spent it watching him wake up with a scream that, even now, gives me goose bumps when I remember it. I spent it watching as the doctors held him down because he was struggling so much as they forced tubes down his throat and nose. I spent it explaining that his bride was not at his bedside because she had been abducted and no one knew where the hell she was. I spent it crying myself to sleep because I couldn't think of a damned thing that was worth that kind of torture. So don't you dare try to play fucking happy families now!" She was breathing heavily and tears were stinging her eyes but she refused to let them fall as she glared hatefully at the man stood in front of her. He stared wordlessly at her and he vaguely recognised what he had felt in the hospital when she had been broken in front of him lodge in his chest about twenty times harder and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"I'm sorry. Listen to me, please, Lo." He reached out to take her hand and she whipped it back sharply.

"No." She took a step back from him. "No, you don't get to touch me." He watched her, stunned and wounded, as she held his gaze and spoke softly. Once upon a time he had been her hero, although she would never admit that. He had been the one she would call if she was in trouble, he had been her knight in shining armour, he had been the one to hold her and comfort her. And now, she felt like a stranger. "I think you should go."

She didn't look angry or upset and it struck him with startling clarity that she just looked defeated.

Tired and helpless were two words that Clark Kent had never thought he would use to describe Lois Lane but there were no better words at that moment in time.

"I'm not going anywhere." He could not leave like this. He needed Lois in his life; it was no longer a want or a desire but an all consuming need and he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she had become the everything in his life. He knew, irrationally, that if he left now Lois would not let him back in behind those iron gates that he had gradually earned the right to break down. "We need to talk and I'm going to stay until we sort everything out. Lois, I'm sorry." She fought back the urge to roll her eyes at the old clichéd line. "I'm sorry that you dealt with this all by yourself. I had no idea how hard it had been for you." There was a little voice in the back of his mind that urged him to quit now while he was ahead but he carried on relentlessly. "But that's exactly why you should have come to the Christmas dinner. It would have been the perfect chance to put all this in the past where it belongs. We missed you. I missed you." Her snort of derision was unexpected and he took a step back.

"Yeah, well, sorry if I wanted to avoid the Lana/Clark crazy train but seriously, it gets kind of boring watching you making googly eyes at each other."

"Wait, what?" She thought that Clark and Lana were back together? How had she managed to come to that conclusion? He had thought, at the wedding, that his feelings for her had been made abundantly clear. Apparently not.

"I mean, I can just about put up with Chloe and Jimmy being sappy all the time because they're newlyweds but I'm not going to deal with two completely lovesick couples; my gag reflex couldn't take the strain."

He realised, fairly rapidly, that he would have to put her wrong assumption right, and quickly, otherwise there would be no hope for them because once Lois Lane got an idea in her head, it was very hard for her to let go of it. He closed the distance between them in two strides and took both her hands in his. She had to tilt her head to still look him in the eye and the desire to just kiss her and screw explanations danced frantically in his mind but he knew, resolutely, that he needed her to understand that he and Lana were over.

"It's not like that. Lana and I...we aren't together. We're finished. For good this time. No lingering doubt or questions just relieved goodbyes." Her eyes held a vulnerability that Clark couldn't ever remember seeing in those gloriously hazel irises. Maybe she cared more than he first thought. He took it as a sign to continue that she had not pulled away. "Besides, my thoughts have been rather preoccupied with an entirely different woman as of late."

"Really?" She breathed the question, the word barely escaping her lips.

"Really, really." His words were exhaled just as softly and he began to lean in toward her. So he was totally unprepared for the moment that she ripped her hands from his grasp and glared at him once more.

"So is that why you were making out with Lana in Metropolis?" He gaped at her. "And in the Talon?" He was blinking rapidly and he couldn't believe the turnaround this woman was giving him. "If I was preoccupying your mind so much then why did you take her out to dinner?" The sarcasm in her voice was palpable and his brain could not wrap around the fact that they had been about to kiss, for the second time, and now she was angry at him again. If it wasn't for the slight sadness in her eyes, he would have thought she was happy to have, once again, outsmarted him. He ran a hand, nervously, through his hair as he struggled to form intelligent answers to a completely unexpected grilling.

"How do you know about that?"

"I have my sources."She responded indignantly. "So?" She gestured for him to explain. "I'm curious, Clark, come on; spill."

"It was more of a goodbye thing than anything." He croaked.

"So you had goodbye sex, then?"

That was the last sentence he had expected to come out of her mouth. In fact, she seemed a little shocked that she had said it out loud as well. He was absolutely stunned and actually staggered backwards.

"N-no! I told you, I was thinking about you. I didn't sleep with Lana. She was staying at the farm for a while but she slept in my room and I took my Mom's room." She still did not look impressed. "Look, something changed between us and I want to fix it." From the look on her face he could tell that was the wrong thing to say. "I want to fix what we had that night of the wedding. Things have been changing between us for a while and it's only recently that I realised what it is. I can't stop thinking about you; Lois, I've fallen for you."

"So kissing Lana in the Talon was your way of saying goodbye?"

"Yes. Like I told you."

"And that's what it takes to be with me? Saying goodbye to Lana?"

"Yes. Like I told you." He felt immense relief that she understood.

"And, like I've told you in the past, I won't be settled for so where does this leave us? I won't be second best to Lana Lang; I can't play that role and you know it."

"Bu-but, it's over between Lana and I. You're not second best." He searched for the phrase that would convey the strength of his conviction. "I would never leave you behind." He echoed her words back to her, certain they would have some kind of impact. "I thought about you all the time when you were in Star City. I missed you so much."

"Riiiight. So that's why you were off gallivanting around the town with Lana attached to your arm once more?" She, clearly, was not going to believe him.

"Yes, I had dinner with Lana." His voice was steadily rising, his frustration and exasperation getting the better of him. Why couldn't she understand that was the past? She was like a dog with a bone. "Yes, she was staying at the farm." He gripped the counter in front of him until his knuckles turned white, realising his mistake too late as he left finger shaped dents in the marble. "Yes, we kissed goodbye." His voice was bordering dangerously on the edge of shouting but he refused to break their electric eye contact. "I'm here now. It's over. Why is it so important what I did those months you were gone!?"

And then she all but screamed four words at him that froze his heart.

"Because I loved you!"

And then there was silence, thick, uncomfortable, unbreakable silence that only served to widen the ever growing abyss between them. He almost choked on his next sentence.

"'Loved'. As in, past tense?" He watched her carefully as she ran a hand over her face and, with his heart beating a mad, staccato tattoo in his chest he waited.

"I don't..." She heaved a sigh and finally looked at him. Nothing but honesty would be acceptable in this situation so she gave him everything she had. "I don't know." Her gaze was apologetic but simple. She was not playing games with him, she was not making him jump through hoops, she was simply being honest. A trait of hers that Clark had never been more grateful for. After all the secrets and lies that had invaded his life he was remarkably blessed for the simple, honesty that Lois constantly offered him whether it was emotional heart to hearts like now or her usual tactless comments that attracted such criticism but were just her...being her. She slumped against the counter, an image of confusion that tugged on Clark's heart strings.

And Lois hated herself for revealing this weakness to him, hated that she hadn't just laughed off whatever had happened between them and then kicked him out of her apartment. But, damn it, he had hurt her and she needed him to know that. Not so that he could try and win back her affection but because she had never been a fan of secrets and hidden feelings. She could not simply waltz back into their easy, bantering friendship with all the hurt jammed into her metaphorical piggy bank because that particular piggy bank's smashing date was long overdue. She didn't mean to let him know how affected she had been when she had found out about the Lana escapades. Hell, he didn't owe her anything so why had she been so upset?

'Because you thought you had lost your chance.' The nasty, mocking voice piped up in the back of her mind. 'Because you, arrogantly, thought you meant more to him.'

"Lois, look at me, please." She reluctantly made eye contact with him and willed some of her barriers to rebuild so that he could not see how utterly vulnerable she felt in front of him. "I'm sorry." She almost scoffed, he seemed to be apologising a lot, but she couldn't help but believe and trust him. She knew he would never intentionally hurt her but that didn't alter the fact that he had. She was so conflicted and yet, her heart yearned for this plaid wearing, Smallville farm boy. "And I can't change what happened but I need to know if there is a chance for us to work."

"Us?" She sounded dubious but hopeful.

"Yeah, us." He could not elaborate. Lois was not one for heart to heart, deep feeling chats and so he was in unchartered waters, flailing his limbs in an attempt to remain floating above the surface. She looked torn and bit her lip as she pondered for the longest minute of his life.

"You need to know, I'm not like Lana or Chloe. Relationships aren't easy for me. I don't do the whole 'let's talk about our emotions' very well. I'm bossy and I won't settle for being second, I need to know that whoever I'm with is in the whole way. I don't like flashy shows or huge declarations of love in front of hundreds of people. I don't like that whole corny, clichéd bed with rose petals and champagne in some swanky hotel. I'm not good at doing what I'm told and I --."

"You don't pay attention to curfews, you never make your bed, you're self-sufficient, independent, an ex-nicotine addict, you hate uncomfortable silences." He interrupted. "I know, Lois." He inched closer to her until they were only separated by a breath. "I'll take it." He pressed a brief, chaste kiss against her lips, leaving her no room to object. She released the breath she was holding.

"There might just be hope for you yet, Smallville."

He had never been so happy to hear his nickname. They shared secret smiles and she shook her head with a breathless laugh that made his heart flutter.

"So, are we okay?" He asked, hesitant to break the comfortable silence.

"No." His heart fell until she squeezed his hand tenderly. "But we will be." His smile blinded her and she swayed towards him as the force of it hit her. He rubbed her knuckles affectionately and tucked a stray piece of dark, brunette hair behind her ear in a gesture that was reserved purely for lovers. She took his hand as it cupped her cheek and felt more content than she had in months.

"I should get back to work." She nodded her assent as his hand dropped from her face to clasp her other hand, intertwining her slender fingers with his. They walked together to the front door, scooping up his keys from the coffee table on the way past, and he could not help the goofy grin that was splashed across his face. "So, dinner? This Friday?" She shrugged nonchalantly but her smirk gave her away.

"Sure. I'll pick you up at 7." They shared another smile and he stepped out into the corridor before turning back round on a whim.

"So...do I get a goodbye kiss?"

"Don't push your luck, Smallville." She slugged him in the shoulder and with a wink and a smile that stole his breath, she shut the door quietly.

It wasn't until he was half way down the street that he realised he was floating about 2 inches above the ground.

And he realised that, although he still didn't have any leads on the story, he really couldn't care less because he had started to heal her heart and there was nothing more important in the world than that.

~*~End~*~

_Fin._


End file.
